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The men stared at her with varying degrees of surprise.
“This weapon of yours is a fearsome thing,” Garrin said, breaking the silence. “To have the ability to kill so many in a short space of time, from far away…I debate the honor of my using this device. I don’t question your honor, my lady. It’s a thing of your realm and you’re used to its aspects. No doubt your enemies have similar weapons and have shields against it.”
“Arrows and spears can kill from a distance,” Bakuln said. “The armaments represent a step up from the sword in this regard, which is an improvement over stone axes.”
Never in her wildest dreams had she expected to be required to argue with Garrin over the question of honor. A blaster was an advanced weapon and the advantages its use could provide him were so clear to her she had to bite back her first impulsive retorts.
“Point to you, my friend,” Garrin said to Bakuln. “But Dianora’s fire weapon can wreak great destruction. You all saw it in action earlier today. She’s the only reason we survived to fight another day.” He toyed with his wine goblet, drank a significant amount and slammed the cup down. “So be it. I will use your gift against the Craadil, for they are an unholy enemy and a danger to my entire kingdom. The gods wouldn’t have sent you and the weapon to me if I wasn’t supposed to use it. Fedorr I will fight in close quarters with my sword, however; and it will be a test of honor.”
With the point resolved, the group fell to serious planning. Dianora insisted Garrin needed to practice with the blaster. “You probably should too,” she said to Bakuln. “In case either of us falls, there need to be others who can shoot. The charge—the magic—can be exhausted but we won’t do much target practice and I did manage to bring a few recharges. Eventually the blasters will be useless but we’re not likely to have the problem any time soon.”
At the end of the evening Garrin did a quick recap. “So it’s agreed, we spend tomorrow getting organized for the raid and practicing with my lady’s weapons. In the evening we make a sortie from the fortress to the woods close to the city and my castle. We’ll spend the day in hiding and then make our way into the tunnels leading to the secret passages. At the appointed hour we’ll emerge from the hidden walkways, taking our enemy by surprise as they sit at their holiday dinner and by dawn the castle and the country will be mine again.”
“How can you be so sure killing the Craadil leader and his minions who happen to be in the castle will eliminate the problem?” Dianora asked. “Don’t we need to dispose of all of them?”
“The enemy are a strange race of beings,” Garrin said. “Much attached to their leaders. Not in the way my sword brothers and I have sworn our loyalty to each other but physically linked. The last one you killed yesterday was a prominent subchief, Meldo. All those in his clan will have been weakened by his death and may die on their own if a new subchief isn’t set in place promptly. There are rituals involved which create the bond, or so we believe.”
Dianora shuddered at the vision of the Craadil who’d almost killed her. He’d been a grotesque and terrifying opponent and she expected to have nightmares about him for a long time.
Garrin continued his explanation. “So yes, we will have to send patrols into the countryside to search out and eliminate any surviving Craadil but the stragglers will be much easier to kill with their leader and subchiefs gone.”
“It’s a bold plan, with many chances to fail,” Bakuln said, “But at this point we have no choice but to be bold.”
“And Lady Dianora’s fire weapon will tilt the balance in our favor,” one of the others said. “The Craadil have no answer for it.”
No one will, not for thousands of years. Dianora wondered how much her interference here was going to change the future of the Argorn on this planet and firmly squelched her scientific unease over the meddling. The ring had thrown her into this situation for reasons of its own and she wasn’t going to abandon Garrin now she knew him.
And had fallen in love with him.
When the meeting adjourned, Garrin escorted her to his rooms. It was late in the night and she walked to the window to gaze at the twin moons, riding high in the sky. “This dress is weighing me down,” she said over her shoulder to him. “All this fabric and layers. How do your women manage?”
He came to her, nuzzling her neck. “They don’t normally partake in battles or other strenuous activities, outside the bedroom of course."
Turning to him, she shook her head. "Trust me, your women partake, as you put it, in a lot of physical effort all day every day, keeping the household running, cooking, doing childcare—they may resemble swans to you, serene and gliding around in their finery, but underneath they’re working damn hard. And these confining clothes aren’t helpful.”
Face serious, he studied her. “You of course are free to wear whatever you please. Any woman who joins my military—and there are more than you might think—wears a modified version of our uniform and armor. I know you’re impatient to start making changes here but it’s best to move slowly. Set an example, with my full support, but remember we Argorn are a proud people, with a history stretching deep into the past and we have our reasons for why we are the way we are. I value your gifts and your magics more than I can say but you’re going to have to accept the fact one woman, even you, can only accomplish so much in a lifetime among us.” He touched a finger to the ring on her hand. “Perhaps you must ask yourself if the bargain is worth it to you while you have the chance to return to your own time. At some point the ring will refuse to take you, or so the tales from the past indicate.”
“Bargain?”
“To be the beloved of the king of the Argorn.” His grin was infectious and he pulled her close against him. “You see I count myself high.”
With a chuckle, Dianora allowed herself to be wooed, savoring the press of his erection against her body. She captured his lips and licked her tongue along the seam, which induced Garrin to open himself to her and she took full advantage. The kiss was everything she’d ever wanted, deep and sensual, full of promise. He removed her cumbersome dress and overdress and she felt free, standing before him in her lingerie. Eyes heavy with lust, Garrin surveyed her from head to toe.
“Truly I’ve been blessed to have you in my bed,” he said, picking her up and depositing her gently on the feather filled mattress. “And everywhere else but right now I can think of only one thing.”
Arms around his neck, she pulled him closer but the fabric of his tunic was scratchy against her skin. “Time for you to strip, my lord.” Dianora worked to help him out of his clothing, until he was naked beside her.
Propped on his elbow, he ran one hand along the curves of her body, studying her. “Beautiful.” Cupping her mound, he slid his fingers over the silken material of her panties and pushed aside the soaked gusset to give himself access to her folds. “Your underthings are more magic,” he said appreciatively as he stroked her sensitive skin. "Never have I seen the like. Knowing you were clad in this fashion under the dress kept me in a state of semi arousal even while planning the raid. You distract me, Dianora, in a dangerous manner but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Silk and lace work wonders,” she said whimsically, curving her leg over him to give him better access and bring him closer to where she wanted him.
Garrin admired her breasts, barely contained in the bra. Taking his hand away from her clit, he unfastened the bra, puzzling over the fastener for a moment and grunting in male satisfaction when he got it open. Lowering his head, he tasted and teased while she lay beneath him. Dianora managed to get her hand on his manhood and stroked the pulsing length as firmly as she could. She was having a hard time concentrating as he enjoyed his current fascination with her breasts. Breaking off what he was doing, he suddenly rolled her onto her back and positioned himself above her, weeping tip of his cock poised at the entrance to her inner core. Dianora adjusted the way she was lying to give him better access and the next minute he’d plunged all the way inside with one powerful thrust. After that she had no time for conscious thought, only mindless pleasure, as Garrin drove in and out, holding her close and tight. She matched his rhythm, marveling how attuned to each other they were and when her orgasm came right before his, she let herself float on the waves of passion, secure in his arms.
Dianora stifled a sneeze. The secret passageways inside the Argorn castle walls were dank, dusty and no doubt harbored spiders. She tried not to think about that too much. The sneak attack party had been hidden here for hours, watching through tiny slits in the stone walls as servants set up the room for a big feast. Guests had come filing in, most of the Argorn wearing rebellious expressions as if attending under protest, but others strutting in with bravado, accompanied by a number of Craadil decked out in what evidently passed for finery in their culture. Several had gruesome ornamentation like the warrior she’d killed and his necklace of ears.
The leader of the Craadil came in after the room was full and the guests bowed low to him as he walked through the assembly to the head table. He was accompanied by a richly dressed human and Dianora hadn’t needed Garrin’s whisper to understand this was Fedorr, his traitorous cousin. She clutched her blaster more firmly and licked her dry lips, waiting for the signal to attack. Garrin was going to trigger the door mechanism, which would slide the entire wall aside and the soldiers would fall upon their enemies. She and Garrin would rake the area with blaster fire and the others would attack any survivors with swords. Elsewhere in the castle Bakuln and a second force waited, to engage the Craadil soldiers in their less exalted dining hall.
The blaster practice the day before had gone well, with Garrin and Bakuln immediately catching on to the use of the weapon and becoming the first Argorn marksmen. She’d offered to give her blaster to Bakuln in fact but Garrin had demurred, stating this was her fire magic and she must wield it in the battle to ensure the gods’ approval.
